


Who We Need To Be

by myparadoxicalsoul



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, F/M, The 100 2 x 09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 09:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8244214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myparadoxicalsoul/pseuds/myparadoxicalsoul
Summary: This is just a short drabble I wrote in response to the heartbreak that was 2x09.





	

Clarke tries to breathe through what feels like shards of glass piercing her heart and lungs, grinding against each other and cutting through muscle and sinew. Her hands rub against each other absently, trying to remove the invisible stain of Finn’s blood, as she takes deep, shuddering breaths. She is doing everything she can to keep herself from crumbling, but it’s a fight she feels she is quickly losing.

She’s losing herself in the pain.

I thought I’d never get over the pain. But I did. Lexa’s words echo in her ears.

Clarke needs to get over the pain, before it consumes her. I could never do that; Clarke’s own words taunt her. She needs to do that. She needs to stop caring. She needs to be strong.

Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two very different things. Bellamy’s statement strengthens her resolve; right now survival is all that matters. The people she cares about, her people, are in danger and she needs to survive long enough to get them out.

Love is weakness. The new mantra pulses through her mind with every heavy beat of her heart.

She imagines a sheen of ice spreading over her heart, incasing it safely in a cool casket, soothing the burn of her loss, freezing it’s broken shards in place.

With a steadying breath, she turns just as Raven calls out. She strides over quickly. Her hands are no longer shaking and twisting within each other, but hang firmly at her side.

Hope boils in the pit of her stomach as she hears the message broadcasting over the radio.

“We need to do this now, we’ve got the alliance, now is the time to use it,” says Bellamy in his deep, commanding voice.

And with a new clarity of mind, suddenly she knows. Bellamy was right. Strengthening the coat of ice around her heart, and ignoring the protest in its frantic thrum she says, “But first we need an inside man, you were right.” She looks to Bellamy, eyes flat and hard. “You should go.”

His frown deepens as he looks at her, head tilted slightly in confusion. “I thought you hated that plan. That I would get myself killed.”

“I was being weak,” Clarke says, jaw locked, determined to see this through. “It’s worth the risk.” The words burn her tongue on the way out.

The fragile layer of ice she is clinging to like a safety blanket almost shatters at the look on Bellamy’s face. His small jerk backwards is mirrored by a hard thud of her heart. She braces herself against the hurt in his chocolate eyes, trying not to notice the slackening of his jaw.

Quickly, before she looses her resolve, she carefully hands over her hand-drawn map of Mount Weather, making sure not to touch him, ignoring the burning eyes of Octavia and the questioning gaze of Raven. Clarke forces her last words out from between her teeth, “Good luck,” but what she really means is I can’t lose you.  
Bellamy would understand. Bellamy always understands.

_Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two very different things._

This is who I need to be. She swallows hard and turns sharply on her heel.

As soon as her back is facing him her stone hard expression falters and her face screws up in pain as one of the shards shift inside her. Her eyes flicker to the sky, head tilting to hold back tears, but the twinkling constellations just make her think of a familiar smattering of freckles. So she jerks her head down, takes another deep breath, and repeats her new mantra over and over.

Love is weakness.

***

Bellamy stands stunned, his hand gripping the map like a lifeline. He can barely lift his head and meet the eyes he feels watching him.

Hurt thrums through him, as her words echo in his ears, invading his bloodstream with every beat of his heart. It’s worth the risk. He keeps his breathing steady trying to fight his reaction, as his brain races to answer the only question that matters.

_What happened to Clarke?_

“Bell, how are you-” He can’t even look at Octavia.

Lincoln says something; Bellamy just nods, not really listening over the noise of this thoughts.

Raven leads him away to show him something, but _what happened to Clarke?_

The light in her eyes, that spark, that had won battles, and earned his respect, and inspired one hundred delinquents, and bartered peace was gone. Her eyes were blank, like shards of ice that cut him to the quick. He knows she is in pain, but this is more than that, she is broken. And now his heart is shattering too.

I can’t lose you, too. I was being weak. It’s worth the risk. The abrupt shift in attitude only further reveals the turmoil and fragility she is fighting. She’s pushing him away. He doesn’t want to leave her. Not like this. She needs him. But he knows he will.

I don’t take orders from you, his earlier words almost make him want to laugh. Of course he does.

He would do anything for her. To protect her.

Clarke wants him to go, so he will.

He’s losing himself to her, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He remembers something he said to her a long time ago. Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two very different things.

_I’ll be whoever she needs me to be._


End file.
